idiot
by butraura
Summary: He's been such an idiot lately and frankly, she's had enough. She stands up for herself and confronts him on his idiocy. *oneshot*


It's not like neither of them noticed when they stopped talking suddenly. He went off on a world tour and she was filming some next indie movie and those were pretty valid excuses to not talk anymore but it doesn't mean it wasn't difficult.

And when she heard that he had been screwing around in random clubs across Europe she most certainly counted her blessings that she hadn't said yes when he asked her out before he left. He asked her and he begged and she told him that maybe she'll change her mind by the time he gets back. But he's messing up big time and she isn't prepared to trust him and get hurt. Because he'll leave again for Canada and maybe the clubs are just as good there. The drinking laws were lower. She's pretty sure he'd find a way to get wasted with his brothers.

She wasn't really about that.

So when he returned home that Monday afternoon and beelined for her house, Laura gracefully hugged him and told him she had missed him. This wasn't a lie, she did. But she wasn't very interested in getting involved with someone like him anymore. He might be a hopeless romantic to the public, but at the end of the day Ross was just a teenage heartthrob with a big ego and little sense of morality.

"I missed you," he whispers in to her ear, rocking them back and forth in a bear hug.

"I missed you too," she smiles. "How was Europe?"

"Es ist ser awesome," he replies, grinning.

"'Es ist' means 'it is', first of all, not 'it was'." she corrects him. He shrugs and laughs and she can smell the faintest bit of alcohol on his breath. Either he had been drinking this morning or he hasn't brushed his teeth in days. She backs up uncomfortably, though he doesn't notice.

"How come you never texted me?" he asks, his tone far more accusatory than it meant to be.

"I figured you were busy," she answers. You know, clubs, girls, smokes. She doesn't say this though, and he just shrugs again.

"Other than playing shows? Not really."

"Really, you didn't do anything else?" she challenges. She's suddenly very hurt that he'd lie about it. She figured he'd just make an excuse. Not flat out lie.

"Nope..." he leans against the house. "We hung out with The Vamps a little before our show though. That was cool."

She nods in acknowledgement. "Cool."

"So did you think about what I said?" he asks.

She internally groans. "Yes. But for right now, can't we just be glad you're home?" she suggests, a hopeful tone.

He pushes off the wall slowly and presses her against the wall gently, leaning his mouth down to trace kisses along her neck. She tries not to melt against his touch. "I, for one, am very glad I'm home," he whispers between each brush of his lips on her skin. She shivers involuntarily. "We can catch up."

She forces a coherent thought to articulate itself into a sentence. "And by catch up you mean dinner?"

"Or this," he mumbles seductively. He pushes a strand of her hair back to expose more skin and she visibly shudders, making him grin.

She pushes him away softly, yet forcefully and moves around him. "Dinner sounds great," she insists. "Pick me up tomorrow at 6." She heads for the front door before turning back. "I'm glad you're back." And then she's gone, safe from her blonde, brown-eyed kryptonite.

She carefully opens the curtains slightly and watches him get in his car and drive away. She releases a breath she wasn't aware of holding. She heads for her room and locks the door, falling face first on her bed in exasperation. She had forgotten how good he was at those kisses and she had totally miscalculated how terribly they affected her.

She sighs deeply before rolling her eyes and turning on her side. She reaches for her lamp and shuts off the light and slowly falls to sleep, thankfully a dreamless night.

* * *

She wakes to a text and a voice message, both from Ross, and she opens the text curiously.

'are you mad at me?' it reads.

She sighs. She begins to type back. 'No. I'm glad you're home. Sorry if I was off last night.' She goes to send it but remembers there's also a message from him so she drafts her response and listens to it first.

At first it's faint, almost nothing. She hears a voice (she thinks it's Ryland's) and listens closer, though it proves difficult. "...oing to tell her?" she makes out.

Then she hears another voice. "Uh no," it says. "What would... say. 'Hey Laura I thought you should... Europe, I kissed a... of girls." She can't hear the whole thing, but she's good at inferring. And she knows that it was Ross who said these things. She'd recognize his voice anywhere, though she wishes she couldn't. She continues to listen. "...acting kind of weird. I'll text her and... if... mad." It's silent for a second. "Oh, her contact is already opened... convenient." And then the line is dead, and she realizes he butt-dialled her.

The tears that escape her eyes fall effortlessly and she feels like she could throw her phone across the room. But Laura was never one to show unnecessary displays of aggression, so she opens her drafted text and backspaces it entirely before rereading the one he sent her.

'are you mad at me?'

'No.' she types purposefully. She sends it and shuts off her phone. She was already dreading this dinner tonight, so she rolls over and goes back to bed.

* * *

By 5:45, Laura was ready to go and at the same time, not ready at all. She had a plan: every time she'd catch Ross in a lie, she'd mentally tally it and for every lie, big or small, she'd not talk to him for a day. And it didn't matter how many lies it was. 2 or 27. She was going to follow through. She hates it when people lie to her, him specifically, because she trusted him so irrefutably and he just broke that trust in an instant. And the worse part is, is that he doesn't even realize it.

Moments later, his Prius pulls in to the driveway, and she can't help chuckle because she knows how much he hates his car. She calls to her family and leaves, making her way to the car. To her surprise, he jumps out and opens the door for her, and she has a feeling tonight's going to be terrible, because he's being all gentlemanly and it's not like him at all.

"Thank you," she says nonchalantly, and he grins playfully, like the innocent boy she met years ago.

He gets back in the car and pulls out of the driveway and they're off. "What do you want to eat?" he asks.

She shrugs. She isn't really hungry to be honest.

He basically reads her mind. "Not hungry?"

"Not really," she replies, embarrassed.

He laughs. "How about some Get Shaved?"

"What's that?"

He almost hits a tree when his head swerves to look at her. "Only the BEST ice cream in California... Actually, maybe the world."

She laughs. "Okay then." It's quiet for a few minutes while they drive, and she almost forgets what she has to do. Almost.

"So are we okay?" he asks, unsure, breaking the silence.

Her breathe hitches. She says nothing for a while. "Yeah, I guess."

"Why 'I guess'?" he wonders.

"What did you do on tour, Ross?" she asks in a harsher tone than usual.

"Played shows?" he answers, sounding genuinely confused.

"Other than that," she scoffs. They pull in to the parking lot of the infamous Get Shaved and they park, but neither of them gets out.

"Nothing," he answers softly. She tallies '1' in her head, but she's reluctant in doing so because his voice sounded pained.

She waits for him to continue, but he doesn't. "Nothing," she repeats dryly.

He nods. "We hung out basically. Did some sight seeing. Why are you asking?"

"Why are you lying?" she retorts.

His face morphs in to one that resembles a deer in headlights, but he just sits there. "Why do you think I'm lying? I'm telling the truth! Why don't you believe me?"

"Because I know for a fact that you're lying. And you're also a terrible actor." She gets out of the vehicle and slams the car door.

She's in line and deciding what to order before Ross gets out. He comes over. "Okay, I don't know why you think I'm lying but what does that have to do with my acting skills?"

"Or lack thereof," she mutters.

"Okay," he says.

"I'm not talking about it here."

"Then tell me in the car."

"Fine."

He takes her hand and grazes her knuckles comfortingly. "In the mean time, what would you like?" He points to a chalkboard menu. "They're all good, but number 12 is my favourite."

She thinks for a moment, still pissed. Admittedly, she's more pissed at herself than him at the moment for caving so easily. But she's still definitely mad at him, indisputably. "I'll have what you're having," she replies in a much softer tone.

"Okay," he nods, a ghost smile playing across his lips.

"You're paying," she says.

He chuckles. "Okay." He leans down and whispers in her ear. "I was going to anyway. I'm not totally heartless."

The next thing she knows is that they're in the car, scarfing away at their ice cream, and Laura is completely embarrassed that she never heard of them until 45 minutes ago. "Mm," she says in approval. She sticks another spoonful in her mouth and sighs, more than satisfied.

He laughs then and reaches over. "You've got a little on your nose," he teases, using his thumb to wipe it off. He licks it off suggestively and her eyebrows shoot up in disbelief.

"That was gross," she complains.

"It was supposed to be sexy and cute," he replies.

"Well it wasn't. It was gross." She turns away then, and continues to eat.

"Lighten up, Laura. I don't see you for a month and suddenly you can't take a joke?" His face twists in confusion. This isn't the girl he remembers.

"I don't see you for a month and you swap spit with a bunch of random girls?" she shoots back.

He almost chokes - an amazing thing to see since it's ice cream. "What?"

She smirks. "You know, all the girls in Europe you met at the clubs? I seem to recall you telling Ryland all about those last night." Shots fired.

He sighs knowingly. "I butt-dialled you." It wasn't a question, but rather a realization.

She nods and ignores the tears. She smiles sarcastically. "And you know, it wouldn't have bothered me if you hadn't gotten down on your knees and grovelled at my feet and begged me to let you take me on a date when you got back. Well guess what? You're back. I'm on a date with you. And you screwed around."

"I did not grovel."

"Yes you did," she reaffirms, laughing painfully. "You did. You even kissed my hand. But I bet you don't remember much before you left. Alcohol does that to you. Girls were probably lining up for you. I was hesitant to say yes because I thought this would happen. I should learn not to second guess myself." He doesn't say anything. Just listens, completely mortified and defeated. Laura continues, on a roll. "And you know, I met these really amazing people when I was filming. Kat, Parker, and this really nice guy in production. He asked me out and I told him I wasn't ready. Because I was waiting for you. And the first time I logged on Twitter and saw that you were messing around... It fucked me up." He winces at her language, since she's generally very kind and proper. "I cried for a little while. I told myself that I wasn't good enough. That I was being a tease. Told myself that all these fucking girls you were getting with must be so much prettier and more willing to do shit with you. And I was so close to going to extreme lengths to change myself for you. But you know what I realized? That you don't fucking deserve me. I'm not changing who I am for you. If you want to sleep around, do it." She's bawling at this point.

He pinches his lips together so he doesn't cry, because he's never realized how much of an idiot he is. "Laura, I-"

"I'm not finished," she chokes out. "I've loved you for a year now, Ross. A whole. Damned. Year. And I thought you really liked me too. But I guess I was just a game. 'Hey I wonder if she'll go for me and if not, hey- there are other girls' and it just-"

"Laura don't," he interrupts, his voice strained. "You weren't a challenge. You were everything. I loved you. I still love you."

"Then why?" she whispers, looking away, just noticing how dark it's gotten.

"I'm an idiot."

"Yes you are. But it doesn't excuse your behaviour. If that's what you want to do Ross, do it. But don't make me feel like I'm the only girl that matters. Like I'm the only girl you want to be with." She cautiously wipes her tears away. She's careful not to smudge her makeup further.

"You ARE the only girl I want to be with," he insists, a pleading look in his eye.

"I don't want to be with you right now. I don't think I can trust you right now. Please take me home," she asks, her voice rising a few octaves.

He hesitates only a moment and decides he doesn't want to upset her further, so he turns the ignition and buckles his seat belt before pulling out of the parking lot. She rests her head in her hand and focuses on steadying her breathing, since she didn't want to draw attention to herself when she got home. It's dead silent on the way there, and not a comfortable silence. Awkward, dead.

When they're back at her house, she takes a deep breath and unlocks the car door. As she's getting out, he stops her. "Laura, can I please just say one last thing?" She waits. "I...I-I'm sorry. I really am." He sighs in a defeated manor and drops his arm. He just stares at her with sad eyes.

"Goodnight, Ross." And she leaves the car and doesn't look back, even when she closes the door to her house.

And he waits a moment and leaves, deciding that he didn't deserve to be there any longer, and also deciding that if Damiano found out about what just happened, he'd surely regret his entire existence, though he sort of already did.

She cleans up and crawls in to oversized pyjamas and falls asleep watching House of Cards that night.

* * *

Ross is up all night writing a speech to Laura in hopes of redeeming himself.

* * *

The next morning, the bags under her eyes envy Vanessa's luggage when they vacationed, which is saying something. She had no plans today, and it was midweek so no one would be home until the evening. Normally she'd plan a day with Raini or Dove or Kat or a friend from school, but she wasn't really feeling sociable today. So she decided she'd clean the house.

It's around an hour in to her cleaning frenzy when Forget About You comes on the radio station and she so desperately wants to change it but doesn't.

Oh no, here we go.

The accuracy of the lyrics frightens her. And eventually she does change the song, because she can't listen to it knowing that he sang this song to thousands of girls in Europe at R5's concert.

For a moment, she feels bad for snapping at him. He did sound really sorry. But in an instant she comes back to reality. She wasn't the one who messed around. And she could have. But she didn't. And she feels so happy with herself for it. And for the first time in a while, she genuinely felt like she'd be okay. At the rate Ross was going, it didn't look like they'd get a season 4 of Austin & Ally anyway, so she probably doesn't have to see him much anymore. It's a mixed blessing, since she loves working on it, though.

She's in the middle of sweeping when she hears the doorbell. She cringes, since she looks atrocious, sweaty and tired and messy, but she answers the door anyway.

Sure enough, he's there. "Ross, what do you-"

"Do you remember," he interrupts. "The season 3 wrap party, when I kissed you?"

She leans on the door frame, bored. "Right before you begged me to let you take me on a date."

"Yeah," he steps forward an inch, nodding. She's yet to notice the flowers in his hand. "I gave you a gold chain with an empty decorative bottle at the end, and it looks similar to one Ally wears sometimes in the show."

Her hand flies to her chest and reveals the necklace. It had been sitting under her shirt. "What's your point?"

"Okay," he continues. "I might be 18 but I'm still just a kid, okay? I don't pretend to be anyone's role model. I'm going to screw up. And over in Europe, the drinking ages are lower, so I guess I thought, 'hey, I'm going to drink and it's going to be legal and I'm going to have fun'. And I did have fun, because I was making music and playing with my family and singing for people that came to see us. It's like a rush, and it was like an adrenaline high. I was doing a lot of stuff really fast and I didn't really take a moment to say, 'you're a fucking idiot, stop'. But I realize that I was. That I am. You're a really good person, and you've never had a problem saying to me that I have to smarten up. And I guess since you weren't there no one stopped me."

"That's a miserable excuse," she whispers.

He shakes his head vigorously. "I know. It is. But listen. You know me. You know that I only apologize when I mean it. You know me."

"I thought I knew you," she says.

"No, you do. I'm loud, obnoxious, dumb and I like girls. I like making people laugh and I like French toast and I love the guitar and watching the Vampire Diaries. I'm stupid and I don't take things as seriously as I should. But I always mean it when I say I'm sorry." He's quiet for a moment while he thinks. "And I'm not telling you to give me another chance. Because you'd probably regret it if you did. I'll make mistakes again. If there's anything I'm sure of, it's that. But I'm going to ask you to give me another chance anyway, because I promise that I'll try to be a better person for you. You deserve that and so much more. And I hate seeing you so upset and I'm so insanely pissed that it's because of me. Even if you forgive me, I'll probably never forgive myself. And I'm really scared that you'll say no and that I'll go away and I won't know how we stand. Just because I like giving you neck kisses and playing with your hair doesn't mean it's all I'm about."

She doesn't say anything, but instead waits for him to continue. He licks his lips nervously. "All I know is that everything in my life is crazy and when I'm with you, it's so much better. I laugh louder, I play better. I get eager to see you the moment I'm gone. I'm smarter. I'm better in every way. And I don't want to lose you. Even if you don't love me the way I love you anymore, that's okay. Because I know I don't deserve you. But please, Laura. Please don't stop talking to me. I need you in my life."

"You love me," she whispers. He nods.

"I do."

She steps forward, taking the flowers. She smiles slightly. "You don't. Deserve me, I mean. But I love you. A lot. So I'll give you another chance. Because you deserve that." His eyes widen in surprise and he lets out an emotional laugh and he starts to shake while he tries to control his tears. He opens his arms for a hug and she steps in to them easily. "Why did you mention the necklace though?"

He steps away and pulls out a small piece of paper that's rolled up. He unravels it and shows her. "It says 'I'm trying', because I wanted you to have a reminder that no matter how this went, I'd be trying to fix myself regardless. So I wrote it out and I rolled it up, and you can stick it inside the bottle. When I screw up, you'll have the part of me that is good, the part of me that begs you not to give up on me."

"You're too romantic for your own good," she comments in awe.

"Sometimes it works. Like now." He reaches down and kisses her softly and briefly. He pulls back again and leans his forehead against her. "I'm sorry I'm an idiot."

"I'm sorry you're an idiot too." She laughs and pulls him closer to kiss him again. They stay like that, kissing and laughing for a few moments.

Then he looks down at her and squints. "So why am I bad actor?"

She looks up at him. "Have you SEEN Teen Beach Movie?"

He scoffs in mock pain. "We did a great job in that movie."

"Maia did great," she agrees. "But you, not so much," she teases. She sticks her tongue out at him and he repays her with a kiss, making her laugh in to it, and she wraps her arms around his neck. He pulls her close protectively and is glad that they're okay, because she hadn't forgiven him, he's not sure he would have been able to deal. Because he loves her. He always has. And let's be honest - he grovelled. Shamelessly and absolutely, he grovelled at her feet.


End file.
